Dear Diary, it's Inauguration Day

February 4, 2009|By LAMAR N. ROBINSON JR. Staff Writer

EDITOR'S NOTE: Lamar N. Robinson Jr., an editorial assistant at the Forum and a Coconut Creek resident, was invited to President Obama's inauguration and a dessert luncheon hosted by U.S. representatives Debbie Wasserman Schultz, Robert Wexler and Ron Klein. These are his diary entries.

Monday, Jan. 19, 2009

I arrived at Dulles International Airport in Chantilly, Va., on one of the coldest days of my life. I had only two things on my mind: the presidential inauguration and the dessert luncheon.

As I looked around at the snow, I noticed a stillness in the air. I wondered how long that calmness would last, who was making this journey along with me, if there would be more than a million people in the crowd. Would people take time off from work, excuse their children from school, travel from across the world to witness this historical event?

"What will this really be like? How tremendous will it be? Will I be joyful, or will it just be surreal?" I thought as we boarded the shuttle bus to the Library of Congress.

I caught the "inaugural fever," complete with chills of excitement, as we traveled through Virginia into Washington, D.C. Hundreds of people filled the street as they walked toward a large building, later identified by our driver as the Cannon House Office Building. This is where we all had to go to pick up our inauguration tickets, and the line of people stretched about a mile from the Cannon's front door through the next two major intersections.

My excitement immediately turned to anxiety at the sight of that line. I wondered what the wait time was, if they might run out of tickets, how I could stand in this freezing cold without passing out. But with conviction I said to myself, "I came too far to turn around."

Stepping off the shuttle bus seemed to bring me back in time 40 years, and in my mind's eye I saw those many people of different faiths, races and creeds walking to Capitol Hill to hear a charismatic and persuasive young leader talk about equality and liberty for all. I thought about how far the country has come since the days of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., and how prejudice, racism and discrimination will not factor into tomorrow's celebration. I saw this as the time when America would finally move in the direction of prosperity and greatness with the help of our new leader, Barack Obama.

I decided to go to the dessert luncheon before picking up my ticket in hopes that the line would shorten by the time I returned. I walked into the Library of Congress wearing a black tuxedo, white silk tie and wingtips, and feeling pretty good. I received only smiles and pleasant hellos from the congressional and federal dignitaries. I met and was photographed with U.S. Rep. Debbie Wasserman Schultz from Florida's 20th District, which includes a large swath of Broward and Miami-Dade counties; U.S. representatives Robert Wexler and Ron Klein, whose districts span Palm Beach and Broward counties; and state Sen. Chris Smith, whose 29th District represents parts of eastern Broward and Palm Beach.

After all the socializing and countless brownies, I made my exit to the men's room to change back into my winter attire. Next stop: the Cannon House to obtain my swearing-in ticket. A friend joined me during my one-hour wait, only a fraction of the wait others suffered through earlier. To distract ourselves from the discomfort induced by the 19-degree temperature and the Abominable Snowman-style outfits, we chatted with an elderly couple from California about the historic significance of this inauguration, the good fortune of those in attendance, the sunny weather back in our home states.

The "lockdown" atmosphere created by a strong police presence at the Cannon House didn't dampen my teary-eyed joy when I received my inauguration ticket. I felt like Charlie did when he finally found a golden ticket in the film "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." The surreal fog lifted as I realized this really was going to happen!

Tuesday, Jan. 20, 2009

I got out of bed at 4 a.m., already dressed in my clothes for the day. I was fired up and ready to go, fueled by a breakfast of water and a granola bar.

I began my journey by walking six blocks to the bus station, where I waited 45 minutes before taking a bus to the Metro station in D.C. There, an officer yelled out, "One-hour wait!" It was 12 degrees, and a herd of people crammed together, headed toward the "promised land" via train.

Obama paraphernalia saturated Capitol Hill: buttons, T-shirts, wine, cheese, air fresheners. A policeman yelled out, "If you have tickets, go straight ahead." A policewoman countered, "If you don't, go to the left." As I continued straight toward a massive crowd, my mouth dropped and my eyes widened in awe. Thousands of people stood in a line that was not moving. On top of the federal buildings, I saw tents; in front of those tents, I saw snipers. Hundreds of police officers and their canine counterparts kept everyone where they belonged.